This topic is a lot more complex than I originally thought it would be. When I took on the task of writing about the politics of Rogue One: A Star Wars Story, I figured I would write a neat little story about how my viewing of Rogue One was filled with moments of connecting the tragedies on screen with the tragedies of the real world. One scene nearly brought me to tears: a young girl is seen crying, isolated in the middle of the battlefield, too paralyzed with fear to even run. This scene reminded me of refugee children trapped in war zones. One scene in particular felt glaringly reminiscent of the current state of the Syrian conflict: Jyn and Cassian, disguised in modest clothing, traverse through a crowded marketplace. The two recognize that they are in a town moments away from complete destruction: “this town is ready to blow.” Suddenly, extremists from all sides begin attacking, forcing civilians to run to avoid being captured or killed. How could that scene be interpreted as anything but Aleppo?
I also wanted this article to praise the writers and producers for taking the time to acknowledge the growing divide between political groups in the US; the horrific sacrifices required by conflict and revolution; and the opportunity for change, brought on by a small group of dreamers.
I mostly wanted to give a great review of Rogue One, because I ended up being a huge fan of the film.
But after a little research, it turns out that Rogue One follows the same format as many other films, and this format has seeped its way into pop culture in a disturbingly silent and dangerous way. Like other popular franchises of the past few decades, from Divergent to The Hunger Games to Harry Potter, Rogue One falls in line with many modern warfare or dystopian stories: using innovative guerrilla warfare tactics, a small diverse team of ambitious young fighters spearhead the festering resentment of the masses, igniting an historical war against an oppressive, uncaring government in which everything is at stake should the heroes lose. The actions of the heroes become mired in moral complexities, with characters resorting to extremely questionable actions at times. Many of our favorite characters, especially those we develop a deep attachment to, die, usually in a sacrifice for the good of the team or the fate of the galaxy. The main characters for each of these films even follows its own trope: the “reluctant hero.”
It is worth noting that our favorite works of literature and film emphasize this theme time and time again. As Ilya Somin, professor of law at George Mason University, writes, political science has studied the effect of literature on the political views of a generation. This can be seen among our childhood favorites, including Harry Potter. The same can be said of any popular franchise that pits the forces of good against the forces, and Star Wars, be it the originals, the prequels, the sequels, or the TV show, is no different.
With literature and film acting on us in insidiously subtle ways, it is obvious why we should take the time to examine what is being played out on screen. There are subfields in scholarly study that devote their attention to Star Wars, believe it or not, and many of them come to the same conclusion: Star Wars is overwhelmingly political, despite what the franchise might tell its viewers.
Since cultural artifacts are created within the context of their time, Star Wars varies from one segment to another, but the message is clear: political ignorance leads to political chaos. Here’s a breakdown of the analysis provided by Ilya Somin and Ian Doescher, writer of Politico:
- Originals: Ilya Somin argues that there is no clear ideology. The Imperials are clearly tagged after Nazi Germany, so it could be a fight against fascism, but we don’t know what political ideology the rebels follow. Ian Doescher draws on the words spoken by George Lucas himself, who claimed his disgust with the US involvement in Vietnam inspired him to create a film in which an overbearing invader (the US) is defeated by ambitious guerilla fighters (Vietnam).
- Prequels: Democracy, and democratic institutions, are corrupt and inefficient. The Senate, drowning in ignorance, undermines itself when it hands over emergency power to Chancellor Palpatine, thereby initiating the creation of its own worst enemy: the Galactic Empire. The Jedi High Council, one of the last barriers to defeat, is the farthest from democratic it could be, in the words of Somin. It is a bureaucratic order of elites who perpetuate power amongst their own group. Their expertise grants them power and control over ordinary people, who are assumed to have less knowledge or insight.
- Sequels (The Force Awakens): modern politicians give way to the creation of the First Order, just as they did for the Galactic Empire.
There are numerous parallels to real life, which can even be drawn from quotes themselves. Take one phrase spoken by Darth Vader while he tries to convince his son to join the cause: “Don’t make me destroy you. Join me, and I will complete your training. With our combined strength, we can end this destructive conflict and bring order to the galaxy.”
Why does this sound familiar to a phrase spoken by Nixon in an acceptance speech he made in 1968: “Time is running out for the merchants of crime and corruption in American society… Just as we cannot have progress without order, we cannot have order without progress, and so, as we commit to order tonight, let us commit to progress.”
In times of conflict, there is an obsession to search for leaders that provide order, just as we are seeing now: days after the Dallas shooting that resulted in the death of five officers, Trump said “We must maintain law and order at the highest level or we will cease to have a country, 100 percent. We will cease to have a country. I am the law and order candidate.”
As Ilya Somin states, “The real world is more similar to Star Wars than we might like it to be.”
Despite the grim parallels evident in Star Wars, the most disturbing aspect comes from what makes such a story so exciting. In these type of films, uncommon heroes manifest themselves among an angry anonymous crowd to save the day. Agency is robbed from the average citizen. The responsibility of action falls on capable elites. Somin writes that among all the praise that Star Wars deserves for its contributions to the political arena, “Star Wars, and pop culture in general, pushes the idea that what we need is a hero to come along and save us, a great leader who will make us great again through great deals and projects.”
This idea is dangerous to both sides. It has given Trump the presidency. It leaves his opponents feeling confused that the traditional barriers provided by democracy have failed to stop his rise to power. It leaves his opponents vulnerable to the idea that they now exist on the defense, not the offense. Read this Twitter strand to recognize the danger of such passivity: https://storify.com/DemFromCT/a-lesson-on-normalizing-nazis.
The politics outside of Star Wars influence the politics in Star Wars, and vice versa. Yet the politics surrounding Star Wars are equally as interesting. When Rogue One writer Chris Weitz wrote anti-Trump tweets, then labeled the Empire a white supremacist organization (now deleted), the writer was forced to apologize for making the connection, despite the fact that George Lucas himself has connected various films in the franchise to historical wars. As David Sim of The Atlantic writes, undermining the political nature of Star Wars only proves that politics influence every aspect of filmmaking. Distancing your film from the idea that white supremacist can, and must be defeated, just so this segment of the population will not be offended and purchase tickets, shows the recognition of “sensitive” material in the film that could offend. White supremacists, especially after reading Weitz’s tweets, could see that their views belong to the forces of evil in the film, an evil that will ultimately be defeated in a few more films. No film is apolitical, no matter its intention, especially after such an intense political cycle.
Like many popular franchises, Star Wars, and Rogue One: A Star Wars Story especially, are flooded with political parallels. But as Ilya Somin notes, it is ignorance that is the most devastating force in each of these films. Ignorance causes preventable dilemmas to become unavoidable catastrophes.
This is the greatest lesson I have taken from my research on Star Wars, and if political scientists are right, it is the lesson we can all take upon closer readings of our favorite films and books.